


Beyond Repair?

by eikokazama



Category: Alternate Universe - Fandom, Fluffyness - Fandom, OOC - Fandom, Quirkyness, Shlash, Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV), smut - Fandom
Genre: Living Together, M/M, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 05:31:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2680865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eikokazama/pseuds/eikokazama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles meets Derek in Dr. Argent's office. Stiles has to welcome Derek into his life in order to conquer his strange fears. However, Derek has problems of his own and Stiles ends up helping him as well. Nonetheless, Stiles will not let Derek into his life as easily as he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awkward Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I've never watched the series or read any fan-fictions from this fandom, but I shall write. If you would like more, any kind of feedback is welcome. After all, I wouldn't want to waste your and my time.  
> I hope you enjoy!

“Why me?” Stiles muttered to himself. He looked up at the staircase before him. The elevator wasn't working, so he had no other choice if he wanted to reach Dr. Argent's office. He took a deep breath, and went on his quest to the top floor of the building.  
Gradually, he started to hear footsteps approaching him. Stiles climbed the stairs quicker, the square spiral starting to make him dizzy. However, the quicker he moved his legs, the closer the footsteps got. He didn't know whether to stop and see who it was or to run until he couldn't move any longer.  
But what if it was some creature? Suddenly, his imagination lit up in his brain and something gruesome came to mind. A wrinkly dark-gray creature with no eyes, unevenly long, razor-sharp teeth that didn't fit in its mouth, and black smoke covering the rest of its body. Stiles shook himself back to reality and started to run up the stairs. “This is why I'm in therapy. Even on my way here...” Stiles trailed off. His chest had grown cold in fear and he could already feel a droplet of sweat trickling down the center line of his back.  
The footsteps came closer. Stiles began to shake involuntarily, part because the muscles of his legs burned, and part due to pure fear. His heart pounded in his chest, his hands trembled, and the small hairs on the back of his neck had risen.  
On his way, Stiles missed a step. He turned his eyes down in time to see the tip of his foot sliding on the edge of the step. As if in slow motion, he fell backward. On instinct, he spread his arms to the sides in hopes of holding the railing and pressing on the wall for support, but his arms were too short.  
All of the sudden, a strong pair of arms wrapped around his waist. “Hey, aren't you too excited to go to therapy? You seem to be in a hurry,” someone with a deep voice uttered. That someone's chest pressed against Stiles's back, the mountains of muscle making Stiles raise his brows to his forehead. With that, a wave of some expensive cologne reached his nose and trapped him within the lack of personal space.  
“I'm not,” Stiles stammered, and got away from the stranger as if he'd been burnt. Besides making up creatures in his mind, he hated when other people touched him, even if it was to save him from having a few broken bones. “Thank you.” Stiles continued his way up, and the man followed closely behind.  
“Are you here to see Dr. Argent?”  
Stiles bit his lower lip. He didn't want to speak with him. “Yes,” he said quietly without even glancing at the man. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to stay in my little bubble.” Fortunately, silence settled in. The bad part was that these stairs seemed endless. Stiles would complain later. He'd been paying for therapy with Dr. Argent and the damned elevator wasn't working. It was bad enough that he would always imagine the elevator stopping mid-floors, the door would open, and a huge tarantula would eat him alive.  
“How long have you been in therapy? What for?” the man asked.  
Rolling his eyes, Stiles shrugged. “Who knows?” he muttered, not wanting to speak. Even on the step behind him, the man was taller than him. He could see it from the way their shadows moved, since he wouldn't look directly at the man. What if the man had the face of that creature he'd imagined before? “No,” he said between clenched teeth, fear taking over again.  
“What?”  
Stiles stopped abruptly, causing the man behind him to bump into him lightly. Stiles shivered at the sudden touch. “Don't walk behind me. It's creepy,” he said, and continued on his way. Just one more floor and they would reach their destination, but he couldn't take it any longer. “I'm here for various reasons.”  
“Ah, you finally answered,” the stranger said as he walked in tow with Stiles. “By the way, I'm Derek.” He reached out to Stiles for a handshake.  
Stiles shot a sideways glance at the large hand dangerously close to him. “I'm Stiles, and I don't like anyone to touch me.”  
“Why is that?” Derek asked. His shadow showed that he had tilted his head in curiosity.  
“For someone who needs therapy, you're awfully outgoing,” Stiles muttered. “You asked why, and I answered. I don't need to explain myself.” He held his head high as they finally reached Dr. Argent's office. When he opened the door and went inside, Derek followed him. If he remembered correctly, his sessions were to happen solely with Dr. Argent.  
Dr. Chris Argent stood from his desk chair. “Stiles, it's good to see you. As always, you enter without knocking,” he said, and continued before Stiles could retort. “I know, I know, you don't want to be caught off-guard when I open the door. I might be an evil creature.”  
“I'm glad you remember our sessions,” Stiles said sarcastically and sat on the couch at the corner of the office. He'd always liked this couch, in the corner, as if he could have a small space for himself with nothing behind him. “Why is this...person here?”  
Dr. Argent followed Stiles's line of sight and looked over at Derek. “He's going to be part of your sessions,” he said. “You've been coming here for over two years twice a month and you haven't made any progress. So, I'm going to leave you in Derek's care for the time being.”  
Stiles was taken aback, and then frowned. “Explain.”  
Derek answered instead, “Since you don't come here often, Dr. Argent asked if I could keep an eye on you. He cares about your progress, so you won't have to pay more than you already do. And since it would be strange if a girl were to help you, I'll be the one to do it.”  
He glanced a few times in Derek's general direction, not able to look at his face. “Strange?”  
“You could ruin the process by falling in love,” Derek answered simply, but it wasn't that simple for Stiles.  
“Sure,” Stiles mumbled, and looked down at his restless hands on his lap. What nonsense. If he didn't like anyone to touch him, how could he fall for someone?  
Dr. Argent approached Stiles and rested his hand on his shoulder. They’ve been close for over two years, so Dr. Argent was the only person Stiles allowed to touch him as far as the shoulder. “Don't worry. With Derek's help, you'll be fine in a while. Just take in what you learn throughout your time with Derek.”  
He had a strange feeling of someone looking intently at him. Stiles turned his eyes up slowly in Derek's way. His heart skipped when he stopped at Derek's hazel eyes on the hand that touched his shoulder. For some reason, a slight frown was above the other man's eyes. When Derek noticed him, he sent him a small smile and shoved his clenched fists into the pockets of his leather jacket.  
Stiles looked away quickly. “It won't be my fault if it doesn't work,” he told the doctor. “How do you expect him to help me?” In the end, he’d accepted. He would spend most of time with Derek, and he wasn’t ready for that. However, in order to live without fear, to sleep tucked in his bed without thinking that something could attack him, he would accept Derek into his life. Of course, he wouldn’t allow the man in that easily.


	2. The Beginning

“Since you have some space at your apartment, Derek can stay over for a while,” Dr. Argent suggested.

Stiles stared at him. “H-He's going to move in with me?” he asked, and noticed from the corner of his eyes Derek nodding. “But I barely know him. He's a stranger to me.”

“I know everything about you,” Derek said, his eyes locked on Stiles's. “Dr. Argent has told me about you, but he wouldn't tell me about what you need to work on. He even gave me a picture of you so I know who you are.”

Stiles gasped. He switched his attention to Dr. Argent. “I didn't befriend you on Facebook so you can spread my photos around. I didn't give you permission to do that, and you can't just assign someone to live with me without my consent.” He stood from the couch and paced toward the door, but Derek got in his way. “What do you want? Are you being paid for this?”

“You told Dr. Argent a while back that you're afraid to live alone,” Derek started, and Stiles averted his eyes. “This is your chance to not be alone. When I see that you're ready, I'll disappear. This is for the sake of your progress, Stiles.”

His heart skipped with Derek said his name with his deep voice for the first time. What should he do? A stranger was going to live in his house. “How would you live with me? I only have one bed, and for sure I can't support a big guy like you. My wallet is not made of gold.”

“I can take care of myself,” Derek told him. “All I'm going to do is help _you_. You don't have to help me.”

Stiles pursed his lips. He couldn't understand why they cared about him like this. He was just like any other patient who paid to be here. What had he done to be different from everyone else? Were his problems that bad? “Why?” he uttered.

Dr. Argent approached him and rested his hand on Stiles's shoulder. “We're not just psychologist and patient, we're also friends, all right? I'm doing this as a friend, not because it's my job,” he said with a kind smile. “Derek understands that and wants to help however he can. Just give him a chance and you'll see that he's a nice guy.”

If they put it like that, he couldn't find any good excuses to refuse. Stiles sighed. “As long as he doesn't invade my personal space, I accept.”

“I have to invade your personal space in every way,” Derek said, earning a stare of surprise from Stiles. “I got you to look me in the eyes, so it's time to start the process. I'm going to move into your apartment, I'm going to university classes with you, and to your job at night with you. And don't worry, I won't cause trouble for you.”

Stiles looked away. How could Derek not cause trouble? He would be noticed by everyone. Well, that could work for his advantage. With Derek around him, people would pay less attention to him. It was a good chance to shut himself off from other people. “All right, but as soon as you step out of line, I'll kick you out,” he said firmly. Derek smiled widely, making Stiles tense.

“Now, I'm going to have an appointment in a few minutes,” Dr. Argent said. “This session will be cut short and you two are going to make the arrangements to live together.” He put his hands on the other two's backs and lightly pushed them toward the door. “Make sure to call me if you need anything.”

“I think that I might call you in a few minutes,” Stiles said with a wide grin, and Dr. Argent rolled his eyes playfully. “Have a good weekend.” He led Derek out of the office and closed the door. “If you want to leave, you can go now.”

Derek tilted his head. “Why would I do that?”

“You know, because you can go home and once in a while call Dr. Argent and tell him that everything is fine,” Stiles answered. He leaned back slightly when Derek's fluffy brows frowned. “What?”

Sighing, Derek made his way to the stairs. “I said that I'm going to help you, and that's what I'm going to do. I'm not going to pretend to help you and then tell Dr. Argent that you're fine when you're actually not.”

Stiles looked down. “I understand,” he uttered, and followed Derek. He didn't know why his heart kept beating quickly whenever Derek spoke or looked at him intensely.

After going down the stairs in silence, they stepped out of the building, and Stiles started to walk up the sidewalk. Derek raised a brow. “Where are you going?”

“Public transportation is too crowded and I imagine creatures lurking around, so I rather go home on foot. It's bad enough that there are people around me that could become monsters or something,” Stiles told him. Without any warning, Derek got a hold of his forearm and stopped him.

“I brought my car. Let's go,” Derek said, and dragged Stiles toward a black Camaro. “I said that I'm going to invade your personal space in every way, and that's exactly what I'll do. You'll get used to it in due time.”

Stiles remained quiet and got in the expensive-looking car when Derek opened the door for him. Taking a deep breath, he buckled his seat belt as he watched Derek walk around the car. Inside, the air was filled with Derek's scent. For some reason, it wasn't as uncomfortable as he thought it would become.

Again in silence, Derek drove to Stiles's apartment, which was about three minutes by car to reach. After he parked the car out front, they entered the building. Stiles got in the elevator with Derek and both went to the third floor. Stiles had never brought anyone to his apartment, since he didn't have any friends, so it felt awkward to bring a stranger into his territory.

Stiles unlocked the door and both went inside, Derek closing the door behind them. “I told you it was small,” Stiles said. “There's a kitchen connected to the living room, a small office, my bedroom, and a bathroom. It's enough for one person. You still have a chance to leave, if you want.” Derek smacked the back of his head and walked by him. Stiles widened in his eyes and froze in place.

“I'm not going to repeat myself. I'm not going anywhere,” Derek retorted. He walked along the hallway, taking a look around the apartment, his shoes clacking on the wooden floor, until he stopped at the end, in front of the room to his left. “This must be your bedroom.” He walked in without permission and sat on the bed, which Stiles had placed in the corner of the room. “This will be enough.”

Stiles stared as Derek walked toward him. While the other man got closer, he had to look up. He looked down when Derek extended his hand to him. “What?”

“I'm going to get my things. I left everything in the car. And give me your keys. I'm going to make a copy,” Derek said in pauses.

Without much thought, Stiles handed him the keys and watched as Derek left the apartment. “What the hell is happening?” he asked himself faintly when the door closed. Why couldn't he say no to Derek?

Shaking himself back to reality, Stiles went to his small office to study. However, no matter how much time passed, he couldn't concentrate. Derek would return at any moment and he couldn't focus. Whining, Stiles leaned back on his chair and looked at the white ceiling. The sudden sounds of the lock of the front door startled him to the point of making him jump on the chair.

“I'm home,” Derek said from the entrance, and closed the door.

Stiles brought his hand up and covered his mouth. His heart pounded in his chest. So much so, that he could hear it against his ears. He gulped when Derek started to call for him throughout the apartment, but he couldn't speak. Derek had called his territory a home!

“Ah, there you are,” Derek said when he spotted Stiles. “Here are your keys.” He placed the house keys on the desk. “If you don't mind, I feel like preparing lunch before I bring my things. We'll take turns.” He stopped when he looked down at Stiles, whose eyes were turned up directly into his. “Why are you blushing?”

“I'm not blushing,” Stiles retorted. He stood and made his way toward the exit, but Derek grabbed his forearm and stopped him. “Don't touch me whenever you want!” Stiles looked over his shoulder, scowling.

Derek shook his head. “Remember, I have to be in your personal space until you get used to it. That way, you can welcome other people into your space,” he said. “From now on, whenever either one of us comes back here, we have to hug. You can't avoid me.”

Stiles sucked in a breath when Derek pulled him roughly and hugged him tightly, his strong arms around his torso. “Okay, that's enough,” he muttered.

“For at least ten seconds.”

He clenched his jaw. Stiles took in Derek's scent. However, his imagination lit up again. In his mind, Derek's arms wrapped around his whole body and started to suffocate him. “Stop,” he said quietly, but Derek wouldn't let go. Shaking involuntarily, Stiles put his hands on Derek's strong chest, and tried to push him away, but the man wouldn't budge. He began to breath heavily, his body growing cold in fear. “This is all happening too quickly. I told you to stop!” he shouted, and shoved him away.

Derek took a few steps back and looked down at Stiles in concern. “I'm here to help you.”

“Don't do that ever again,” Stiles demanded, and paced out of the room.

“I have to,” Derek said mostly to himself, looking down.

 

(I do not own this image and I will take it out soon!)


	3. Spiral of Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The excitement is about to begin. Be prepared!

Derek paced after Stiles. “Wait, we should talk instead of leaving everything like this,” he said, looking at Stiles's back.

Stiles came to a stop in his bedroom and turned around. “If you want to talk, let's talk,” he started. “First, you can't do whatever you want whenever you want. Second, I don't mind if we hug so I can get used to it, but if I really want you to stop, you have to stop. Third, what are you going to make for lunch?”

He smiled slightly. Stiles didn't look directly at him, but he had calmed down quickly. “It's a deal. And what's for lunch is going to be a surprise.” He turned and went to the kitchen.

Derek hadn't been completely sure, but when he'd hugged Stiles, he knew the answer to his own question. Stiles was his mate, meant to be for him. Derek shivered at the thought. He opened the plastic bags on the table and searched for the ingredients he would use for lunch. “Damn it,” he mumbled under his breath. How could he make Stiles his own when they didn't know each other that well? There were limits to how much he could express his feelings and touch him.

“Can I see what you're going to make?” Stiles asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“Sure,” Derek said faintly, lost in his thoughts. Stiles was right next to him, but he couldn't do anything. Besides that, he had no idea what would happen when they had to sleep in the same bed. He hadn't wanted to do such a thing, since his wild side could take over, but Dr. Argent had insisted for that in order to help Stiles with his fears.

After lunch, Derek and Stiles went to the living area to watch television. Good thing the couch was small. Derek had the chance to stay close to Stiles. While Stiles was entertained with the show he was watching, Derek couldn't focus. From time to time, even though it was obvious that Stiles didn't notice, their shoulders would touch. Of course, Derek always took the chance to press them together just a little bit more.

“Did you see that?” Stiles laughed out.

To not seem out of it, Derek nodded and chuckled. When Stiles's attention was back on the television, he returned to his serious expression. “Do you like this show?”

Stiles took a couple of seconds to regard him, but didn't look directly at him. “Yes, I've been watching it every weekend for a while,” he answered, and glanced from Derek back to the television.

Derek nodded briefly. “I see...” He then turned his eyes down at one of Stiles's hands that was on his lap. Although he wanted to hold it, he knew perfectly well that he couldn't. Even with the excuse that they had to touch more often, Stiles would find it suspicious. After all, Derek himself had told him that the process would be ruined if he fell in love.

“Hey,” Stiles called, drawing Derek's attention.

Shaking himself, Derek looked over at the young man. “What?”

“I called you a few times, but you were rather disconnected,” Stiles said, one brow raised in suspicion. “Anyway, I'm going out. Dr. Argent told me to jog for at least half an hour every weekend.” He stood from the couch, and looked over his shoulder. “Aren't you coming? We're supposed to be together, right?” 

Derek stared at him. “Y-Yes, of course.” He stood and went to the luggage that he'd left in Stiles's bedroom. It had taken him a lot to not react to Stiles being next to him. Sighing, he opened his traveling case and took out a pair of sweatpants and a black tank top. “Where do you usual run?” When he glanced over his shoulder, he had to look again, his eyes widened.

Stiles peeled his shirt off over his head and threw it onto the bed. “Twice around the park nearby and then back here,” he said as he took his pants off.

He looked away from Stiles in a split second. “That's good.” The view was good. He wanted to look again, but if he overdid it, there was no way he could sleep in the same bed as Stiles. Derek took a deep breath to bring himself together, and began to get changed as well. “I also run on weekends, but mostly on Sundays.” Stiles didn't say anything to continue the conversation, so he looked over at him. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” Stiles looked away from Derek's chest. “I was just thinking that maybe I should get as strong as you. I mean, you look good—Wait, I mean, I'm envious of your build. Never mind!” He finished getting dressed quickly and left the room. “I'll wait at the exit.”

Derek raised his brows to his forehead. “He was checking me out,” he said quietly to himself. But that couldn't have happened. Perhaps Stiles really was envious of his build.

****

Outside, Stiles and Derek started to jog their way to the park. Stiles hadn't been able to stop himself from looking at Derek's bare torso. The problem was that he couldn't avoid the man or he would look suspicious. Unfortunately, it was for the sake of his psychological progress.

Stiles looked around as they jogged in silence. Every now and then, a few people would look at Derek. For some reason, that upset Stiles. The way they gazed at Derek and then whispered to each other or simply stared blankly, bothered him. He wanted Derek to tell him something about it. “Have you noticed? You're being watched.” Well, it wasn't a surprise. Derek's tank top hugged his strong torso and showed every curve of his muscles.

“I'm used to it,” Derek answered. He looked up at the sky. “It seems that it's going to rain.”

When Stiles looked up, a droplet of water fell on his face. “I can't get sick, so we have to return. At least we're going to make one lap around the park.” He looked at Derek, who nodded with a hint of a smile.

Upon returning to the apartment, they went to take a shower in turns. Stiles finished getting dressed and sat on the bed, drying his hair with a small towel. He could hear the sound of the water spray coming from the bathroom. Stiles took a deep breath, slapped his cheeks, and went to his small office. He hadn't had time to study before, so now was his chance.

As Stiles approached the bathroom, the door opened and Derek stepped out, a black towel around his neck, his hair dripping with steaming water. Stiles stopped abruptly, his eyes on Derek's half-naked body. “Did you forget your shirt?” he asked quietly, and Derek nodded.

“Why do I have a feeling that you're watching me again?” Derek asked aloud, bringing Stiles back to reality.

“I-I'm not watching you,” Stiles muttered, crossing his arms and looking away. “It's all your fault for showing off.”

Derek tilted his head. “For showing off?” A grin formed on his lips. “You're the one who's looking at my body. Do you swing that way?”

“What kind of question is that? I just have eyes on my face,” he answered awkwardly. Stiles reached out and poked Derek's chest. “See? I'm not afraid to touch people.” He tried to change the subject, but Derek raised a brow. “Fine, I'll confess, if that's what you want. Yes, I was looking. I might have my fears, but saying what I think is not one of them.”

“Is that so?” Derek took a step closer to him, making Stiles lean back. “Tell me, then. What do you think of me?”

Stiles pursed his lips. “You're an idiot,” he blurted out, taking Derek by surprise. “I only look at you because you look at me.” He turned his eyes down. “What I mean is, from the first time we met, you've been kind of obvious. For example, while we were watching television, I felt your eyes on me. I'm usually alone, so I can almost feel it when someone next to me is staring.”

Derek let his mouth fall open, dumbfounded. “Is it that obvious?”

“It...” Stiles paused. His heart pounded in his chest. “It was just a guess.”

 

(I do not own this image. It's from Deviantart!)


	4. Why?

Stiles turned around and started to leave the area. He stepped into his bedroom and closed the door slowly. He'd just teased Derek about the man having feelings for him, but he hadn't expected that to be true.

He brought his hands to his face and sighed. What should he do now? All of a sudden, his imagination acted up. However, instead of something horrifying, it was the image of Derek leaning over to him, his intense gaze on Stiles's lips. But for some reason, Derek's fluffy brows started to wiggle and he pulled the weirdest duck-face ever. “W-What the hell?” Stiles shouted at his strange imagination, and then shook his head in self-disappointment.

A couple of knocks on the door made Stiles jolt. “Stiles, are you all right?” Derek asked from the other side.

“I'm fine,” he muttered his answer out. “What do you want, to confess your love to me?” Stiles clenched his hands. He wanted to hit himself because of the stupid question. “Forget I ever asked that. Are you dressed now?”

After a brief moment of silence, Derek finally answered with a vague, “Maybe.”

Stiles's heart almost jumped out of his chest. To either question, that answer sounded too weird. Stiles brought his hand up to cover his mouth. “Goodness, is he wiggling his brows right now?”

“Did you say something?” Derek asked, but Stiles remained quiet. “Anyway, let's talk again. I'd like to tell you that even if that was true, we wouldn't be able to... be together. It would be detrimental to your progress.”

That was not fair. “I know,” Stiles said. It wasn't as if he'd began to get used to the idea that Derek liked him, but he felt like the other man had given him a treat that was taken away right after. What should he do to take away that awkwardness? There was nothing. He would have to live with that.

“I'm going to order takeout,” Derek said out of the blue. “Should we get some pizza for dinner? We'll be able to chat better with our stomachs full.”

Stiles pursed his lips. The image of Derek feeding him had just crossed his mind. He couldn't believe how Derek had returned to normal, as if nothing had happened. “Sure. Any kind is fine by me,” he answered curtly.

“Okay.”

He heard Derek's footsteps fading away. Stiles slid down the door and sat on the wooden floor, letting his hands fall limp next to him. Derek wanted to say something to him. If they were face-to-face, he wasn't sure how he would be able to even look at Derek, let alone be in his presence. “All right now, I have to behave like a grown man—I mean, like a grown nineteen year-old,” he told himself. “I'll just take his feelings seriously and have a mature conversation like reasonable adults.”

Stiles stood and turned to the door. He then wrapped his hand around the handle. What if Derek stood on the other side very quietly? What if someone else stood there? Or _something_ else? Stiles shook his head frantically. This wasn't the time to let his imagination take over. However, that was why he needed therapy.

There must have been a black shadow of a man on the other side of the door all along. It had been luring him out by pretending to be Derek. Stiles began to shake unwillingly. In his mind, that creature had bright-red eyes, blood pouring out as if it cried, as if it thirsted to kill him.

Standing straight, Stiles turned the handle and quickly opened the door. There was nothing there. He didn't know how he'd managed to not run away, but he guessed that it was because he was sure that Derek was in the apartment. Derek would definitely help him if he needed. “Derek,” Stiles called.

“Yes?” Derek came out of the kitchen and approached him. “What's wrong? You're paler than a few minutes ago.”

Stiles shrugged. “It's nothing. Have you called them?” he mumbled, wanting to change the subject, and Derek nodded. “We should discuss things while we wait. Waiting for something to happen won't do us any good.”

Derek stared at him for a moment, but finally spoke. “Of course.”

“Okay, then,” Stiles said, glancing up at Derek before he walked back into his bedroom. Even though his imagination disturbed him at night, whenever he didn't have to go to sleep, his bedroom was the safest place for him, where he felt more at ease. Stiles sat on the bed, and was surprised when Derek did the same without even asking. It seemed natural for him to do such a thing so casually.

“So,” Derek started, “I guess that we know each other enough to take it to the next level.” He continued immediately when Stiles widened his eyes, staring blankly at him. “I'm talking about the therapy. I think that it's time for us to get to know each other better. If you'd like to know anything about me, ask away. I'll be completely honest with you.”

Stiles said what came to his mind first. “Who are you?”

Derek leaned back slightly, but quickly regained his composure. “I'm Derek Hale and I'm twenty-six years old. I'm also in therapy, but for different reasons that would take a while to explain to you.” He took a deep breath. “What I can tell you to gain your trust, is that I'm not... normal.”

He tilted his head at Derek's last word. “Are you shady or something? Should I go get a knife to protect myself?”

“Nothing like that.” Derek chuckled. “I'm a... Well, I better just show you.” He stood from the bed and turned to him. “You must have imagined worse, so don't be afraid.”

“I have the feeling that I should be,” Stiles told him, and the man just gave him a glimpse of a smile. For some reason, he trusted what Derek wanted to show him. However, nothing had prepared for what he was about to see.

Derek raised his hand and opened it. His nails grew sharply into claws, and his canine teeth into sharp fangs. But he stopped there and returned to normal in seconds. “I don't want to scare you too much, so this will be enough. To put it simply, I'm a werewolf,” he said.

Stiles could only stare. “A werewolf,” he said faintly, not able to blink. He glanced between Derek's lips and hand a few times. “Explain.”

“I have a wolf pack,” Derek said. “It must be difficult for you to understand, but it's true. I'm here to learn more about human behavior because my pack advised me. Apparently, humans are as sensitive toward others as they would like me to be. Since I've been so caught up in work and other things, I decided that it was time to take some vacation and come here when Dr. Argent asked for my help. He said that you could see me as a strong being that would protect you from anything.”

Stiles nodded. “Why are _you_ helping me, then? To help yourself?”

“In a way, yes. Yet that doesn't mean that I don't care about you,” Derek said, making Stiles's heart skip. “When Dr. Argent showed me your picture, I knew that you were the one. Nonetheless, for the sake of your progress, we can't get involved. You could become dependent of me and not be able to overcome your issues.”

That sounded unreasonable. “No,” Stiles said without a second thought, turning his eyes down. “You don't know me, so you can't possibly have an idea of how I would react.”

Derek grinned. “Are you saying that I should make a move on you?” he whispered, leaning closer slowly. All that was left was for him to start wiggling his eyebrows and pucker his lips, but the man just looked irresistible.

Stiles shook himself back to reality. “No, of course not,” he said quickly. “All I'm saying is that you wouldn't know my reaction. Don't put words in my mouth.”

Suddenly, Derek moved even closer until their lips were one inch away from each other. “Like this?” he whispered again, and then gave a quick peck to Stiles's lips. “If you give me green light, I have no other choice but to move forward.”

 _What?_ The thought echoed in Stiles's mind. He brought his hands to his lips and covered his mouth. “W-What did you just do?”

“I can show it to you again,” Derek told him, and tackled Stiles onto the bed, his strong arms around the smaller body under his own. “Now that you know what I really am and how you said that you wouldn't become dependent of me, I will do everything in my power to make you mine. Be prepared.”

Stiles's mind spun so quickly that he felt lightheaded. He had no idea what was going on anymore. It was as if Derek's personality changed almost completely. “Wait,” he uttered, and looked at the man on top of him who wouldn't take his eyes away from his lips. “When we first met, were you after me? Even if I ran up the stairs to Dr. Argent's office, you came rushing after me.”

“Yes, I saw you entering the building,” Derek answered. “You're even more adorable up close.” Stiles shivered violently as Derek slid his finger down his neck until he reached the center of his chest. “Your heartbeat is soothing to me, especially when it's like this.”

What should he do? Had Derek gone insane? “Wait, we should take things slow. I—”

“Oh, so we're going to be together just like mates?” Derek asked, and didn't wait for an answer because he continued speaking. “From now on, we're going to mate every day until you need to rest and then—”

This time, Stiles was the one who cut him off, but it was by kicking Derek's crotch. Derek held on to his jewels and moaned in pain, his head on Stiles's chest. “Let's get this straight,” Stiles started, and shoved Derek to the side before he stood on the bed, towering over the other man. He put his hands on his hips and looked down on Derek. “Whenever you want to make any crazy decisions, make sure to consult with me about them. What are you saying, mating every day? It's not just because you kissed me one time that you're going to get into my pants, understood?”

Derek nodded in a fetal position. “But does that mean that you accept me as your mate? I need to know before we do anything else,” he mumbled.

Stiles looked away and back at Derek. “Sure,” he said very quietly, yet Derek didn't ask him to repeat, he just grinned widely. “What are you so happy about?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Derek also stood on the bed. “For me, we're meant to be. You have accepted me even knowing that I'm not human. That's why I'm happy.” He reached over to Stiles and rested his hand on his cheek, sliding his thumb from side to side.

The doorbell rang. “It must be the pizza guy,” Stiles said, and ran out of the bedroom in a panic for not knowing what to do or say next. He was saved by the bell. However, that didn't take out the fact that more awkwardness was inevitable.

 

I do not own this image. I never do. lol.


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